Unbelievable Truths
by Emerald.Taurus08
Summary: Sherlock is tired and groggy. Lestrade assumes drugs. -May become a oneshot collection based on Fem!John and Sherlock-
1. The Drug Bust

Unbelievable Truths

Summary: Sherlock is tired and groggy. DI Lestrade assumes drugs.

The Drug Bust.

Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade stared at his self proclaimed Consulting Detective, Sherlock Holmes, in worry. He had seen the man at his worst and helped him through it some. The man had went from addict to a great man. Yet seeing him now, he was starting to believe that maybe the man was returning to old habits, and he'll be damned if he does that. He particularly doesn't have a death wish at the hands of a man who controlled the British Government but swore he didn't.

That particular day, after Sherlock had left the crime scene, as he had wrapped up at the scene he made a quick decision and as he walked out of the bulding he looked for Anderson and Donovan only to find them snogging by the empty cars. He shook his head at this, he highly disapproved of their relationship seeing as Anderson was married, but he didn't bother saying anything and let them resolve their own problems. Normally he ignored them in occasions like these but he had been looking for them for a reason.

"Anderson. Donovan." He calls with a clearing of his throat. The two in question jump away from each other, eyes wide in surprise at being caught.

"D-Do you n-need something, Lestrade?" Donovan asks with a small stutter.

"Gather up a team of volunteers. We're going to Sherlock's." He says and starts walking to a squad car. "Next time I find you snogging on my bloody crime scene, no pun intended, I'll have one of you transferred from my department."

Donovan and Anderson had given him a nod and had run off into the building, where most of those that hated the younger Holmes had been. He watched as they walked out five minutes later with a group of about eight officers following behind them. Donovan, Anderson, and Dimmock, who had been on the scene for an unknown reason, all hopped into his car, and he drove off, two more squad cars following after them.

Two Two One B-Baker Street was a very nice place, as was the landlady, . Yet its tennant was considered a high-functioning sociopath that had enemies all over.

In order to not give the old landlady a scare with busting down the door, Lestrade decided to knock instead. When opened the door he smiled and said the truth, knowing it unwise to lie to the old.

"Sorry to disturb ma'am, but we're here on a drugs bust on Sherlock Holmes."

"Dear god! Sherlock can't possibly be on drugs! Not with the little one's Janessa just had!" walked off muttering to herself about how incredulous the idea was. Lestrade and the other officers paid no mind to what the woman went on about. Afterall, it was not possible for Sherlock Holmes, whom had always identified himself as asexual, to have kids. Some, however, were curious as to who this Janessa was.

They marched up the stairs and found the door somewhat ajar. When walking in, they expected to find the flat messy, with papers on the floor, and books stacked up in random places, the usual sight of the maile pinned to the wall with knife and Sherlock passed out on the sofa with a needle. Instead they found an actually livable living area.

Walking inside, everyone saw a small, L-shaped, gray sofa pinned up against a wall and a small glass coffee table in the middle, the encasing of the glass black with rounded edges. On either side of the coffee table were two grey armchairs with small wooden legs that were barely and inch and a half off the floor and had the same dark blue and white cushions seen on the sofa. There were two rather comfortable looking window seats in a dark blue shade with white, bright yellow and lime green cushions to add a pop of color, with bookshelves that ran to the ceiling on each side and separating the two. The walls were painted a watery blue with with soft chalky grays. The only area with absolutely no color was the wall holding the window seats and bookshelves. Across from the sofa was an electric fireplace installed into the wall a flat telly was seen above the fireplace and four floating shelves on either side of it, Sherlock's signature skull residing on one of them. As they walk around, separating to look around the obviously, newly renovated flat. One thing they all noticed, however, was that the wall that separated the living area and kitchen. In place of the wall that supported the ceiling was a white beam and looking into the kitchen, Donovan almost fainted.

There were no experiments on the table, no heads in the refrigerator, no fingers in the microwaves. Everything looked normal. The kitchen was just as modern as the living area, with white walls, dark gray cabinetry, stainless steel appliances and another, yet smaller, flat telly attached to a wall. On the right wall there were two white bookshelves above grey cabinets. The shelves reached the ceiling and were separated by the breakfast bar for six that had two high chairs at the end. That was when Donovan truly looked through the cabinets. She found baby formula's and bottles in a small cabinet under the bookshelves. She didn't notice a glass mug as she took a bottle and a formula tin and knocked it over onto the dark wood floor that ran throughout the house. The clattering of the mug attracted everyone into the kitchen and they looked at Donovan and what she was holding. Then to the shattered mug on the floor.

"Sally, what are you holding?" Anderson asked as he walked towards her.

"A baby bottle and a tin of formula." She said in a daze.

"Maybe we walked into the wrong flat." Dimmock said as he inspected the kitchen and found the same as Donovan. It was nothing but a normal kitchen, although more modern.

"No this is definitely Sherlock's flat. The skull in the living area. I found his mail as well." Lestrade said. He atleast had the decency to start picking up the shards of glass from the floor, and as he was throwing them out, a tired voice came from the stairs.

"Sherlock, is that you? I thought you weren't coming home until later?" It was a females voice and they all turned to the entrance of the kitchen to see a petite blonde woman with blue eyes as dark as the stormy night sea. She was about five foot three, wearing nothing but a too large white shirt that reached her mid-thigh and was buttoned up, the last three buttons left open. She stared at them and they stared at her. "You're not Sherlock." She said her eyes narrowing, suddenly wide awake. In the time it took them to blink she had a gun pointed at them.

Lestrade and Dimmock quickly acted and brought out their own guns. "Ma'am who are you and why are you in Sherlock's flat?"

"I could ask you the same thing? What could New Scotland Yard possibly want with Sherlock? Didn't Lestrade call him in this afternoon for a locked room murder?" Her voice was steely and guarded. Her body was tense as if anticipating an attack and planning how to handle them all and run to safety if need be.

"I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade and this is DI Dimmock. We're here on a possible drugs bust ma'am. Please put the gun down and we can talk quietly." Lestrade said as he motioned for everyone to lower their weapons. She looked at him for a minute before placing it inside a small box in the wall that nobody had noticed.

"Put them away. And you." She said pointing to Sergeant Donovan. "Please put my children's stuff back where you found it." Her voice was still steely but her eyes had softened slightly.

"Ma'am, are you and your children being kept here by Sherlock?" Anderson asked as he started to walk up the stares to inspect the second floor.

"No. Now get back here. If you wake them up when I just got them to go to sleep, I will not hesitate to put a bullet in your leg." And everybody believed she would. Anderson walked back down and went to stand next to Sally who was now staring at the woman, trying to analyse her.

"Ma'am, may we please know your name? Why are you in the freaks home? Has he been hurting you or your kids?" It was Sally who asked the question and that earned her to backhanded slap across the face.

"One; Don't ever call him a freak in my presence because I will not hesitate to use my military training on you and I will not hesitate to put you six feet under. Second; My name's Janessa Watson-Holmes. I'm Sherlock's wife. Third; if he even thought about laying a hand on me and his own kids he would have been dead by now." Everyone believed she would comply with her threats, they however did not believe her being Sherlock's wife. Sherlock Holmes, insufferable, high-functioning sociopath, married with kids.

"Ma'am-"

"Please call me Jane or Janessa. I'm only twenty-seven." She said removing her hand from Donovan's clothing.

" . Please don't lie to us. Sherlock Holmes is not married. I don't think there's a being on the planet that could stand the insufferable idiot besides his mother and brother." Dimmock said, speaking for the first time. He was trying to comprehend why the beautiful, and unevenly tanned, woman was calling herself Sherlock's wife.

She turned to look them all in the eye before walking to a book shelf on the other side of the breakfast bar and stepping on a stepping stool to grab a framed picture on the fourth shelf. As she was stepping down, she slipped and fell, landing on her bum.

One of the officers nearby helped her up and she sent him a small smile as she went to grab the picture that had slid from her grasp and walking back to the two DI's handing them the picture. Their jaws were nearly on the floor and the ever curious Anderson and Donovan looked over their shoulder to see what they were surprised over. What they saw was a younger looking Sherlock and Janessa standing on an altar with a white flowered arch over head. Sherlock was wearing a standard three-piece black suit, his usually untamable curls slicked back with two falling free at the sides. A small smile adorned his face as he held onto the younger Janessa that was clad in a tight fitting white laced dress that flowed out at her white heeled feet, a bouquet of white chrysanthemums in her hand, with white and red roses littering the floor under them. Her hair had been half pinned up in two braids that circled the top of her head like a band, while the rest of it had been curled, cascading to her waist.

"This is not Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes does not smile like that!" Anderson yelled at the top of his lungs and two muffled, yet loud, wails resounded throughout the house. Anderson was instantly scared of the promise of death seen in those blue eyes as Janessa passed by them and up the stairs, returning with two dark haired twins, their dark curls very familiar, and even in the mass of baby fat, they noticed prominent high cheekbones. She placed them in the highchairs and went to the dishwasher, pulling out two clear bottles with pink and blue designs on them. Lestrade handed her a formula tin from the cabinet, earning him a thank you. As she added the scoops of the powder into the bottles with water, she had put a small pan on the stove next to her with water to heat up the bottle some. She placed the bottles in the pan once she was done and had shaken them and went to take a look at the little ones' diapers just in case. Seeing they needed no change, she just sighed.

"You better be lucky i'm too tired to take an attempt at killing you for waking them when they hadn't even been asleep for an hour. Now, will someone please help me feed William while I feed Charlotte?" She turned off the stove and checked the bottles' temperature. Finding them okay she looked at all of them. She didn't like anyone of them. Hell she only knew their names because of Sherlock and that was barely, seeing as he deleted the important information from his brain. She was surprised when Lestrade took the blue decorated bottle from her grasp and headed towards the somewhat wailing boy.

Taking a closer look at the baby as it hungrily sucked on the nipp of the bottle, he saw the uncanny resemblance to Sherlock. Only thing was that the baby had the sea blue eyes of his mother. In the silence that enveloped the living area, as they had all transitioned for the two to feed the children in comfort, they heard voice yelling frantically.

"Sherlock! What have you done?"

"What do you mean, ?" Was her tired reply from none other than the reason of their visit, to which was forgotten.

"New Scotland Yard is upstairs! They say it's a drugs bust! But they're only for my hip."

"Are Janessa and the twins there?" He asked. His tired voice took on a worried tone.

"I had checked on them before they arrived. Janessa was sleeping with the twins in the nursery. I believe they're awake now, seeing as I heard their cries." With that loud and fast stomps resounded up the stairs and Lestrade turned to see a rather angry looking Sherlock standing at the door holding a briefcase with dark splatters on it and a bloody coat as well.

"Why didn't you say you were married, Sherlock?" Lestrade said as he started burping the baby in his arms who gurgled happily when he was done, and then they quieted as the child's eyes drooped closed and his breathing evened.

"I don't mix my work and my private life." He said as he took the boy from Lestrade's arms and the little girl from Janessa, placing a light kiss to the woman's hair. "Sorry about this, Jane. They're idiots."

"Good to put faces on the names." She said as she took the two bottles and put them in the dishwasher while Sherlock walked up the stairs and placed the kids in their respective bedrooms.

Lestrade looked at them as they reentered the living area, Sherlock having shed his coat upstairs now unbuttoned the cuffs of his purple shirt and rolled them up.

"Everyone can go home." Lestrade said and everyone but Donovan, Anderson, and Dimmock stood and left, offering quiet congratulations to the two.

"So why are you here?" Sherlock asked as he threw himself on the sofa.

"Well, you've been groggy and tired lately. Not as bouncy and your arguments with Donovan and Anderson haven't been as usual." He answered with a shrug. "Assumed you started using again." Yet now that Lestrade knew the man was married and had kids it made sense. He was losing sleep because the babies were keeping him up and that in turn made him groggy and unenergized.

"You're an idiot." He says and then turns to see Janessa entering with a tray holding five cuppas. "I told you not to worry about it." He said stifling a yawn and standing to take the tray from his wife.

"Unlike like you, I have manners." She said as she took a seat.

"You must be tired." Donovan said looking at the smaller woman.

"If you knew the energy it took to give birth to twins, have to take care of them, and deal with the Holmes', you would be tired too."

"I'm not that bad." Sherlock said as he sat with his cuppa and handing Janessa hers.

"I've known you my whole life. I practically grew up in your house. You and Mycroft are a handful, and with the way you both acted, who would think you were related."

"So that's why that man approves of you?" Anderson says as if it made sense. "Mycroft usually hates everything and anything the freak li-" A butter knife was embedded into the wall behind Anderson, cutting him off.

Dimmock and Lestrade changed to subject quickly, turning to Sherlock.

"Did you find what you rushed out looking for?" Dimmock asked and turned to look at the blood stained articles on the dark wood floor by the door.

"Yes. If the victim has a sister with a background in gymnastics and acrobatics, that is." He looked on next to him as he finished to see Janessa fast asleep her empty cuppa slipping from her grasp. He quickly grabbed it and placed it on the tray with the other empty cups.

"To think she looks so innocent when she sleeps." Anderson said and Donovan agreed.

"Yea, she almost killed me for calling you the freak that you are earlier. Threatened me with military training."

"She has bad history with the word. I could honestly care less, but high school always comes back when that word comes up. Also, yes. She is an army doctor, currently on leave. Captain Janessa Watson-Holmes of the Northumberland Fusilier and Her Majesties Royal Army." He said as he went to grab a book.

"Strong woman you got there." Lestrade said and they all looked at the innocent looking blonde that could probably snap their necks in point two seconds.

They all turned to look at Sherlock when he didn't answer and saw him passed out as well. The four detectives stood and quietly made their way out, grabbing their evidence from the doorway. On the way to the Yard Lestrade was in a good mood.

He was glad Sherlock had an anchor to keep him where he is now and he saw something he didn't think would happen soon. He always said that one day Sherlock would become a good man from a great one.

The day came without his knowing and in the form of twins.

Miracles were truly possible.

 _Blergh. Enjoy._


	2. The Russian Mafia (1)

Unbelievable Truths

Chapter 2:

The Russian Mafia (1)

It was a surprisingly quiet day, if you didn't count a fifth murder happening and Gregory Lestrade being forced to call one self-proclaimed sociopath in for help in solving the case.

"Do we really need to call in the freak?" Sgt Donovan asked with a sneer as she waited outside the crime scene for Sherlock Holmes to arrive.

"If we don't want this reaching a tenth murder, then yes, we do need Sherlock." Lestrade said as he took another drag from his cigarette. He saw the sneer Donovan sent Anderson as he came to a stop next to them as she told him.

He didn't see a reason for them not to like Sherlock. Sure he was an insufferable genius with a weird like for the dead, but everyone had their quirks.

A cab came to a stop at the curb, and out stepped Sherlock, black tail-coat shuffling behind him.

"You should have called me in after the second one, Lestrade." Sherlock Holmes said, in his annoying;y posh accent as he bypassed the tape and went straight inside. Lestrade and Anderson went after him, while Donovan stayed outside to keep spectators away.

They went into the motel to see Sherlock squatted in front of the pale blonde in a pair of sweats and a sports bra, portraying various defensive bruises on her arms and legs as well as some stab wounds across her stomach and a bullet to the head. He looked shocked as he saw her, examined her.

"It can't be..." He whispered and narrowed his eyes. "What's her name, Lestraade?" He asked in a clipped tone.

"Natalia Androkinova, Russian. She was here on a small vacation. We had to dig deep to find out who she really was; the Androkinov Clan make sure to always keep their possible heirs watched and cared for, with many aliases at hand."

They saw the look of relief but pain in his eyes, as they softened and he stood.

"She wasn't here on vacation, and she wasn't here alone. She was here by ways of her father and uncle on a job, if you'd like to call it that." he said and turned to look at her face, peaceful in it's eternal sleep before he took out his phone reserved for family favors and occasions, and dialed his brother. "Mycroft, I need a favor. Call Jane and tell her that her cousin is dead. Maybe we can avoid a confrontation with Russia with this." It was all he said before hanging up and stuffing away the phone.

"Sherlock?" Lestrade asked as he stood there for a moment, looking around calculatingly. He went to the white purse, and opened it, after putting on his gloves. He rummaged throug it and found what he was lookiing for: a letter.

A letter addressed to him.

He dropped the purse and opened the letter.

"What do you think you're doing, _freak?_ That's evidence."

"Evidence addressed to me. Now shut up."

 _Dear Sherlock,_

 _If you're reading this then that means they found me and killed me. I'll have you know, the killer was a hired assassin killing off people in the clan by order. I don't know the persons name but it's female. She's been tasked with killing people in the Clan and positioning them around London, in hopes that they would send someone from the main family to investigate, hence I was here. I need you to do me a favor. Keep Janessa safe. They're after killing any possible heirs, leaving the clan without anyone to inherit it and possibly fall. If I die, the next in line would me Jane, as my younger cousin. Inform my family directly, I beg you. If they get wind of her coming to London on her own then she will be targeted. I know you and your brother will do anything to keep her safe, as she is pregnant with your child and your girlfriend since forever. No doubt by the time you're reading this, news of my death will have reached grandfather- thanks to my guards that had been out catching something to eat, and he himself will be coming here, bringing Janessa, Father and Uncle with him. Take care of Jane for me, she's too lovable to die._

 _Take care of yourself as well you insufferable idiot._

 _With love,_

 _Natalia Androkinov, Heiress of the Androkinov Clan._

 _P.S. There's another set of letters in my bag for each of them._

Sherlock simply stared at the paper for a moment before speed dialing Mycroft.

"Brother, be perepared, the Androkinov Clan is coming to London, and they're coming for blood. Don't bother informing Jane, she's coming with them. Upgrade to Security level Five. She's not dying on my watch." He waaited a minute before his brother answered.

 _"Security udgraded to level Six. Also Sherlock, it's too late to call them anyways, they've just entered their family home, and it wasn't just Janessa, Johnathan, Hadrian, Aleksei, and Aleksandr Androkinov that arrived. My guess is those close to the family, two hired assassins, and enough guards for all of them came with, considering the amount of cars that just parked infront of the estate. Tell the Yard that this is a priority one case as of right now. Ta."_

He stuffed away his phone and the letter, and turned to Lestrade who stood stiff and at attention as he stood infront of the door.

"This has become a priority one case, Lestrade. My brother expects it to be solved int three days time."

"Then we'll need you. For now, Sherlock, meet Aleksandr Androkinov, Head of the Androkinov Clan and Mafia Syndicate." As Lestrade said this, the officers standing around were alert.

Sherlock stepped forward, a serious look at his face.

"We're aquainted." Sherlock said before nodding to the elderly man who stood with his back straight and his hand gripping an intricate black and gold cane, as he was clad in a three piece gray suit.

"I hope you and your brother are on this, Sherlock." Aleksander said as he bypassed them and went to see his granddaughters' corpse.

"I was called in today, Aleksandr. Though I should have been called in by the second murder."

"Good, I expect this to be cleared in three days time, boy. I have my own people on this as well."

"Yes'sir. My brother has taken it upon himself to make this into a priority one case, if only because she was your grandadughter and Janessa is a possible next target."

Theat caused the man to bolt upright.

"What did you just say boy? That, _little and pregnant Janessa is the possible next target?_ I hope you've prepared your deathbeds, Holmes', because if something happenes to that fiance of yours, I'm coming after you and your brother, and these incompetent police officers aswell."

"Who do you think you are?" Sgt Donovan asked, outraged, as she entered the room. "This is a federal investigation, you are but a mere civilian that should not be here."

A new voice interrupted her before Sally could speak again. She was short, with long golden blond hair and a small baby bump, showing through the coral blouse she wore.

"You were right, Sherlock. She is an idiot and has a newly death wish I will carry out if she dares say her next words concerning you and grandfather. I can't understand for the life of me why she would insult a grieving man in front of his dead granddaughters corpse."

"Janessa." Sherlock breathed, and some saw a look of delight on his face.

"Janessa, what are you doing in here?" Aleksandr demanded as he looked even more alert than before, relaxing when a woman and a man stepped into the room, standing on guard behind her.

"Well, grandfather, I heard Sherlock was in here. A call from Mycroft. I figured I'd let him know I was fine and save him the worry that comes with me, him and a pair of unborn twins."

"Why would you care about what the _freak_ is feeling?" Anderson said idiotically, and he found himself with a gun pointed at his head, a heated glare sent his way, that had him nearly pissing himself.

"It's rude to insukt a pregant woman's fiance to her face with her favorite insult, you know." She said before lowering her gun and turning to look at Sherlock who had gone stock still and she smiled brightly.

"Twins?"

"Surprise?"

 _ **This is blegh, but please Follow, Fvorite, and Review. Domo Arigatou.**_


	3. A Red Poppy and a Soldier's Homecoming

Unbelievable Truths

Summary- Early Memorial Day Tribute Fic... In a sense.

Sherlock is wearing the Rememberance Poppy, Sally and Anderson excel at making him feel like dhit. And then Janessa (Fem!John) makes her entrance.

Chapter 3:

A Red Poppy and a Soldiers Homecoming

Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade had always assumed Serlock Holmes, his blood high functioning sociopathic consulting detective, didn't have any feeling - if he did, they were buried and hidden deep down- and certainly wasn't one to show any affection. Annoy you? Yes. Be acceftionate ot empathetic? No- hardly.

So it came as a surprise to see him entering their recent murder site - an alley - without his signature tail coat swiching behind him due to the summer heat and in a three piece suit, a red poppy in the breast pocket.

"Hello, Sally." Sherlock greeted with a nod.

"Hello, Freak." Sgt Donovan sneered and they all missed his cringe.

"How long is Andersons wife away for this time?" He asked and bypassed the tape, leaving the woman stock still. "Lestrade." He greeted curtly and moved to stand over the body, skimming his eyes over it.

"Freak, what's that?" Anderson asked, eyeing the red poppy in the breast pocket, just like every other officer. Some noticed the chain around his neck, tucked into the shirt.

"A poppy, Anderson. I'm sure you're eyesight isn't _that_ bad yet. You're still pretty young- compared to most."

"Yes, I know it's a poppy. I mean why are you wearing one? You don't seem like the flower type. And if you did, I'm sure they would die just from being in your presence." The weasel faced man sneered as he eyed the poppy.

Many of the officers there glared at the man. It was inconsiderate of him, and oblivious, to disrespect the Red Poppy in any way. Especially in front of veteran soldiers.

"I'm sure you're aware that the red poppy is used to commemorate fallen soldiers and their sacrifice for the Queen and Country- Nations if you want to talk about it worldwide." Anyone who knew Sherlock William Holmes knew that it was probably the most sentimental thing the man has ever said.

"Please, like you actually care about The Fallen and those that sacrifice themselves for us." Sgt Donovan sneered entering the room. Lestrade saw the flinch the man gave at those words, and the way his eyes seemed to shine less than they normally did when it involved serial killings.

A once over across the room told him that his officers that had served before were not happy with the two _infieles_ words. Their postures - which looked as if they were standing at the attention of their commanding officers - told him everything he needed to know.

"Don't talk as if you know everything, Sally. You don't even the half of what it mean." His voice was somewhat hoarse, as if he was remembering something, and then he saw them. The dog tags around his neck fell out of his shirt as he bent down lower to retrieve feel under the fuchsia colored jacket the woman wore.

Nobody mentioned that Sherlock looked lost in some memory as he studied the body, but of course Sally and Anderson had to make a point of wanting to humiliate him.

"What, remembering that anyone you actually cared for ran away to the armed forces to get away from you, Freak? Probably preferred a death in the trenches than being murdered by you one day." Anderson said, wry smirk on his face.

Nobody mentioned the tears they saw in Sherlock's eyes as he blinked them away, stuffed the dog tags back under his shirt, and walked out. Not a word said by him, or any of the other officers - they were busy glaring at the two bastards smiling smugly.

"Hit a sore spot did we?" Sally said and Sherlock stopped halfway to the door. "She must be glad to not have to deal with you." Sally said.

"That's enough." Lestrade intervened. Not noticing that Sherlock was looking at something in front of him. "That was uncalled for, and disrespectful to him, and all soldiers out there. You're both suspended without pay for the next two-three days." He says and turns to Sherlock only to see him frozen where he was and decides to look around him.

At the door frame stood a small female, clad in an army uniform, the name tag displaying Watson. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, posture at attention. Her blonde hair was in a tightly constrained bun, behind her head. There was a bag at her feet and Lestrade noticed that she was staring past Sherlock and at Anderson and Sally, face void of all emotions.

She did a once over across the room as she stepped inside, gave Sherlock a hug and smile and stepped around him. He saw five of his officers' eyes widen and come to attentions, saluting at the woman.

"Major Watson." They said in unison, and the woman - Watson - glanced at them, and smiled.

"At ease soldiers."

"If you don't mind us asking, Major, why are you here? Shouldn't you be on that rescue team, as the medic for the captured infiltration team?"

"I've been honorably discharged, Lieutenant. Shot in my left arm, left with a tremor, bomb shrapnel to the leg left me with a psychosomatic limp - got over it - luckily I volunteered to go, if not they all would have died. Good to see you've all fully recovered."

"Thank you, Major." They said smiling and she returned her attention to the two in front of her, giving them an analyzing once over.

"Dumbasses." She says once she's done, and Sally flares.

"Who do you think you are?!" She screeches at the woman who looks her straight in the eyes with a leveled stare.

"Janessa Holmes nee Watson, you adultering whore. I can't understand for the life of me why you're wasting your time with a married man, that won't leave his wife for you because he ultimately loves her more, and the man you actually like is not even remotely interested in you." She looks away from them for a moment before turning to Sherlock. "Sher, love, are you alright?" She doesn't receive an answer.

"You must be insane to marry that _Freak_." She receives a heated glare that leaves the five officers standing with their postures at attention. They know that look and they knew what came afterwards.

A backhanded slap to the face resounds across the room.

"I don't care if you disrespect me, the soldiers getting shot at and bombed, the officers you work with, I know what i'm doing, as do they. But you've disrespected my husband in front of me and I don't condone that, I also don't condone you insulting my former Lieutenant and the four other officers that had been under me."

"You can't talk to her like that!" Anderson yells and moves to make a grab at her, but he finds himself in Sherlock's hold. The woman hadn't even flinched, instead leveling the man with a level look while his arm was held behind his back in a tight grip, consisting of an indian burn as well.

"Anderson, it's impolite to hit another man's woman, especially when she grew up in the Holmes estate, and my brother is protective of her."

"I'll be talking to your wife about testifying for domestic abuse, and child abuse as well." The smile on her face is bright and sweet, and they all briefly wonder if she's as sociopathic as Sherlock, but then again she married the man she had to be to some degree. "Come on, Sher, we have things to do." She said chirpily.

They all watched as Sherlock let Anderson go, and walked up to the small woman - they still didn't know her name - pulling her flush against him.

"Welcome Home, Janessa."

"Good to be back. I fail to understand why you let them walk all over you like that."

"Well, thought it would be hilarious to see you have a go at them."

"Sadist."

"Masochist."

"In my defense, it comes with the career and being an adrenaline junkie." She said cheekily as she winked at her chuckling colleagues.

"Let's go, six months is too long." Sherlock says grabbing the bag and putting his arm over her shoulder, as he rushes out, leaving the Yarders a flush with the thought.

"IT'S NOT CONNECTED TO THE SERIAL MURDERS! IT WAS HER HUSBAND, IN CARDIFF!"

 _ **Blergh. Enjoy.**_

 _ **In honor of all our fallen and serving.**_


	4. Little Do You Know

Unbelievable Truths

Summary- Five times throughout a week Sherlock notices a small blond girl in his school. One time he actually deduces her and learns that the world truly is cruel.

Chapter 4:

Little Do You Know

1-

It was Monday -very dreadful day mind you -when Sherlock first noticed the blond girl. He had been walking to his brother's class to bug him for a chocolate eclair when he first saw her. He had never seen her before and _assumed_ she was new to the school. He didn't bother deducing her then and there, he had a more urgent matter to look towards.

He should have known to never assume.

2-

He was in class, it was Tuesday. Sherlock was inexplicably bored with the teachers droning. He ignored the spitball thrown his way, as he sat there. He scanned his eyes across the room doing a once over from his seat in the back corner by the door. He looked to his left - he wondered why, the seats were normally empty - and saw the same blond girl sitting there, her posture picture perfect, her blond locks tied into a single high pony and the ends curled, her fringe sat held in place by a seashell decorated clip. She was kicking her legs off the floor back and forth as she took notes. He wondered what her name was, forgetting about deducing her, though he didn't have to wonder long.

"Janessa, please come and answer the question on the board." He heard say sweetly. She was one of the only people unperturbed by his deductions and therefore liked her. He was wasn't expecting the blond girl -Janessa, his mind supplied- to answer. Yet she did.

"Yes Professor." With those quick and quiet words, Janessa hopped out from behind her desk, black stockings on her legs disappearing below the red and black plaid skirt and under the white flats she wore.

 _Why are you wearing stockings when it's nearly ninety-five degrees out?_

He breifly wondered how he never noticed her before. He again assumed she was a new student, but couldn't help think he's seen her somewhere else - that was not the previous day.

3-

It was Wednsday when Sherlock saw her again.

He was with Mycroft for their shared P.E class that consisted of fencing that day. He was paired up with his brother again and glared at him as they stood in front of eachother at a random place in the gymnasium. He had unarmed his brother -about bloody time he did- and ganered a point. When he looked around the room, he saw her, Janessa disarming her own opponent, one of the boys from his brothers class and year, garnering a point while knocking him to the gorund.

"Brother, do you know whom the girl that knocked down Sebastian Morian is?"

Mycroft looked at his younger brother, seeing the mild intigue about the small blond.

"She's only the third smartest student in this school, First to me, Second to you. The second smartest in your age group aswell, to you of course. Janessa Hilda Watson, she comes from a well off family, and as the oldest is expected to inherit the family wealth." He had made more observations, _deductions_ , but his brother didn't need to hear them. It would be best to let him remain oblivious to how harsh the world truly is.

"So she's been here since the beginning? I had assumed she was a new student."

Mycroft stole a glance at his distracted little brother, his little brother that always deduced first and assumed later.

"You should know to never assume, Sherlock. What would mummy say?"

He noticed the start of his brothers crush on the quiet and shy girl. Yes, he would let his brother find out on his own, but in the meantime, he would speak with mummy about what's to come by the end of the oncomming week and to prepare a room.

Yes, that would be best.

4-

It was Thursady. It was raining. Sherlock and Mycroft walked to school on Thursdays.

Sherlock had decided it was hightime to start deducing Janessa, but he did not see her. She was normally already in the classroom when he got there -which was really early as he showed up with Mycroft who had the student council to worry about- and reading a book -it had been _Pride and_ _Prejudice_ by _Jane Austen_ since yesterday.

Yet she was no where to be seen, and when he didn't see her for the rest of the day, he found himself feeling somewhat gloomy, though his feelings were pushed away as his fathers words rang clear in his head _sentiment is a chemical defect on the losing side_ -wait, no, those were his words, an abbreviation of his fathers saying.

When he had gotten home he had done the tedious job of finishing his homework before he saw his mother.

"Sherlock, dear, you seem down today." Maria Holmes said as she entered her youngest sons bedroom. "Did something happen at school that will not allow you to touch your chemicals?"

Her son didn't answer her and she fought the smile on her face at the adorable face she saw on Sherlocks face as he entered his mind palace. She was made aware of his soon to be crush, but she didn't think it would affect her youngest that much.

"It was nothing Mummy," He said as he went, hugged her, kissed her cheek and proceeded to throw himself onto his bed. "I'll be taking a nap, wake me for dinner."

With a chuckle, she let her son be. She briefly wondered how this little girl, Janessa Hilda Watson, would affect her family.

Only time would tell.

5-

It was Friday. It was annoyingly cloudy and due to medical checkups, Sherlock and Mycroft had missed school.

Sherlock had pouted at not being able to go to school and then continued to bristle at the fact that he wouldn't be able to see Janessa and deduce her. It was the reason he found himself at the neighborhood park with Mycroft.

He did the park a once over as he continued to pout and during that once over, he notices Janessa sitting on a bench, reading a book - _Wuthering Heights_ by _Emily Bronte_ this time. He noticed a pastel pink cast on her right leg, and an arm holster on her left. A prominent bruise could be seen around her right eye and while he was at it, he noticed from the slight wince when she breathed in too deeply, that she had at the very least two broken ribs on the right side, and a fractured and bruised one on her left. From what he could see on her left leg, there were also prominent bruises scattered on it. He quickly came to a conclusion.

Her father was hitting her, and that caused something to boil inside of him.

He walked over to her and sat down next to her, seeing his brother watching him quizzically from where he was. He waited until she finished reading the chapter she was on before introducing himself.

"My name's Sherlock Holmes." He said and she looked at him, eyes looking at him analytically before answering in a small voice: "I know, we have all our classes together. Janessa Watson by the way." She said and Sherlock smiled.

"I'm sure you know of my reputation so i'll come right out and say it. I know it wasn't a car accident. I know it was your father." He stopped as he saw the fear in her eyes as they widened. "I won't tell anyone, but if you need a place to stay, you can stay at my house. I think my older brother arranged a room for you already, knowing him." She was still looking at him, though now it was with less fear and more of intrigue. She didn't say anything and Sherlock smiled, allowing one to come to her face as well with his next words.

"I'm sure mummy wouldn't mind. She was trying for a girl before father passed. You'll make the perfect doll."

That started a friendship that turned to more, and at nineteen they were married. Just a year before Janessa Joined the Military as an Army Doctor.

 _ **Blergh! Enjoy!**_


End file.
